Tome of Tales: Vol I
by Lord Pyrus
Summary: Whether one resides in Lordran, Drangleic, Lothric, or one of the other kingdoms scattered throughout the wide world, one truth remains the same: time and space are warped beyond recognition, allowing for certain things to fall through the veil...


**So I've kinda slacked on writing anything (understatement of the century), and a fellow writer mentioned that I don't do bad writing. Maybe give it another go.**

 **But, in my defense, I can start an idea, my issue is keeping it going.**

 **So!**

 **I've decided I'm going to write out my little beginning blurbs in here, for different stories and different ideas, and whether or not I expand upon them is up to my brain actually helping me out in the endeavor or I get some good feedback that can kickstart my creative side.**

 **I might make this a multi-purpose 'book', per-se, but for now this is strictly for Dark Souls crossovers. If not, I'll make a different story altogether for other crossovers. This first chapter doesn't really have a specific crossover in mind yet, but the situation was one I couldn't help but write out. Maybe I'll decide where this guy lands later on, should I feel the inspiration.**

 **As a clarification, I don't have a set writing schedule or anything. This is just a project of convenience unless I really get into a certain idea.**

 **And of course, I don't own Dark Souls or any other thing I might cross it over with, 'cept my OCs.**

 **{~}**

The Age of Light was ending. The Age of Gods. The Age of his king, diminishing like a dying ember in the night.

He would have to be a fool to not see it.

Gwyn, his king, vanished to the Kiln. Izalith and her children nothing more than abominations of nature. Nito and Seath, both retreating inside their domains and staying silent with any means of communication.

His comrades, his friends, fallen and scattered to the winds. New Londo claimed two, Orthos and Carmién. Oolacile stole three, Ciaran, Gough, and Artorias.

...And his dear Filianore was gone, sent to the Ringed City by her father for duty. Words could not explain the deep pain he would feel when he thought of her.

It was just him, Captain Ornstein, the vile Lord Executioner, and the recluse Gwyndolin with his servants in the empty twilight of Anor Londo.

They were charged with guarding the city of the gods, a duty he once took pride in... but with years gone past, seeing nothing but graves and loss, the Falcon Knight's legendary serenity frayed. The years of happiness, of joy, of valor, of love, and of duty had long since ended.

He would leave his post, to see if the world was as empty as his home was. To see if any Light remained... to see if his love still lived.

{~}

Memories of the past haunted the Falcon Knight as his metal steps echoed throughout the nearly empty city. It was as if they all cluttered to the forefront of his mind, demanding to be replayed, to remind him of what he was abandoning. It made a hard task more difficult, to say the least.

 _...That was the pub we would all go to in our downtime. The brawls we got in... the stuff of legend, heh._

 _That courtyard was where Gwyn himself praised me for my valor, and recruited me to the Four Knights, making us Five. I was so excited, though I had to keep a calm face on. Orthos was so jealous..._

 _Artorias trained me in the art of the Greatsword, and presented me with my dear Thunderstrike at that very spot... they could never fully repair the cobblestone, much to my comrades' amusement._

He was now out of the inner city, making his way out ever so slowly, so caught up in his reminiscing.

 _Hah. They never cleaned the blade marks. Ciaran was so embarrassed when Artorias was brought up._

 _Carmién got into so much trouble when she brought Gwyndolin down here for a drink... never laughed so hard in my life. The two idiots had switched clothes in their drunken states!_

 _...That was where Filianore and I would meet, at the new moon._

 _..._

{~}

It had taken some time, but Korian had made it to the edge of the city, before a blur of gold caught up with him in a flash. The demigod's head tilted towards the slightly taller man before him, his own bronze armor gleaming in the light. "Captain."

"Korian. I see you're leaving." Was Ornstein's neutral reply, the golden lion helm staring at him almost accusingly. While his mind was firmly set on this course of action, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt rattle his heart.

With the others gone... the Captain was all that was left. His last true friend. His brother in all but blood.

"...I do not wish to waste away here, Ornstein. To rot away in this tomb of a city. Out there... I can do just a little more good, before even the true sun fades away." Even though his words were firm, he found that he couldn't meet his eyes as he admitted his desires. "I want to see Filianore again, before I die."

Yet his guilt was lessened when Ornstein placed a hand on his shoulder, voice soft. "Then have safe travels, with fair skies." The Falcon Knight finally looked up at the intimidating but familiar helm, looking to where he could see his friend's eyes. They held a deep sadness, but an understanding was prominent in them.

They stayed like this for a while, the fact that this would be the last time either of them would see each other was nearly enough to break him.

But he was able to pull his emotions under control like always, as he pulled away from the golden knight. "Goodbye..."

And even as he strode away, his bronze clad hands clenched into fists, he could hear Ornstein's parting words as if he were still next to him.

 _"Farewell... my brother."_


End file.
